


In the Night

by TheRedWulf



Series: Sansan One Shots [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Excuse for smut, F/M, Law Enforcement, Modern Era, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Smut, Strong!Sansa, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 10:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which the woman Sandor takes home from the bar is more than meets the eye...Picset is viewableHERE





	In the Night

**Author's Note:**

> A short one shot as I prepare to add this ship to my list of fic'd ships...this is just an excuse to write smut for this pairing. Only hints of plot in there. 
> 
> For those who have not read my work before, writing a strong Sansa is a general habit of mine. 
> 
> I know I should be working on my multi-chap. But oh well. 
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“This seat taken?” her soft voice pulled him from his maudlin musings, from the memories that he couldn’t escape. He turned to face her, aware that she had previously only seen his ‘good’ side. He fixed her with a glare, one that sent even the toughest of bastards running for the hills and to her credit, she didn’t so much as bat an eye. 

She didn’t gasp, gawk or scream, she merely looked over his scars with a blank, almost clinical expression before meeting his eyes once again, silently repeating the question she had already posed. 

“All yours” he said gruffly, watching as she sank onto the barstool with more grace than this hell hole had seen in its existence. 

Objectively speaking, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had noticed her the moment she had walked into “Hot Pies Local” a dive bar and diner of sorts on the edge of town. 

She was tall, taller than most, with curves in all the right places, porcelain skin and a curtain of fiery hair that shone even in the shitty pub light. She was perfection and too far out of his damned league for him to take a second glance. 

He knew what he was, there was no denying it. Salty, jaded and cynical, all rolled into a pretty little package that the United States Army had airdropped into the hottest war-zones and barely managed to pick his ass up afterwards. He was an asshole at best and a stone-cold prick at his worst, but he was never, ever, fake. 

Genuine to a fault his coworker Bronn would say with a smirk. Speaking truths no one wants to hear. 

“Got a name?” the redhead asked, waving down the bartender. 

“Sandor” he said curtly as the bartender, an older man named Beric, arrived. 

“I’ll take a whisky, neat, and another round for my friend Sandor here” she smiled. 

He raised his good brow, “Bit presumptuous, eh?” he challenged.

She only chuckled in response, “You’d have said yes.” 

“Mind reader, then?”

“I am good with people” she handed Beric her card as he returned with their drinks, opening a tab before turning to face him. “You’ve been watching me since I came in. You’re subtle about it, but nonetheless. I waited over yonder” she motioned to where she had been sitting at the other end of the bar. “Figured you would make a move, but when I realized you were too chicken shit to, I did it myself.” 

He glared at her, “Don’t fuck with me, girl, I know what I am” he growled. 

“And what’s that?” she raised an auburn brow. Gods what he wouldn’t give to rip those skin tight jeans from her body and throw her over the bar to fuck her senseless. Maybe then that smart mouth of hers would be silent. 

“I’m an ugly dog” he spat at her. 

She hummed softly, raising her glass to take a sip, “It’s not going to work, you know?”

“The fuck are you chirping on about?”

“Scaring me away” she explained. “It isn’t going to work” she sipped her whisky. “I’ve seen worse than you, and I can see the truth in your eyes.”

“The truth? The truth is I want you to fuck off” he glared. This woman had a spine of steel and a damned sharp eye. Too sharp. 

“The truth is you ache” her voice dropped as she leaned closer. “You ache and you long, Sandor. Bark all you want, but the only thing you want to sink your teeth into is--”

“Fucks sake” he turned away, drinking deepling from his beer. 

“There now” she smirked, extending her hand. “I’m Sansa.”

He stared at her hand for several seconds before he gave a faint chuckled and shook it, ignoring how small her hand felt in his, “Next round’s on me.” 

She’d be lying if she said that she hadn’t spotted him from the moment she walked into the shit pub. In a sea of overweight truckers and scummy salesmen, _he_ stood out like a beacon on the horizon. 

Tall, broad and dark, he was glowering like his life depended on it while he nursed a bottle of Budweiser. Shit beer, she grimaced, but at least his beard was well kept and his hair was neatly cut, high and tight. She hated nothing so much as a neck beard that screamed ‘I live in my mother’s basement’. 

She took her time, finding a spot at the end of the bar and watching everyone in the room. Habit she supposed. Years of being suspicious of others had her watching the doors and patrons at all times. 

She had only moved into town a few days ago, starting over in a better town with a better job. At least, she hoped it was a better job. Only time would tell. Life in Wintertown had been boring as shit, and she was happy to be far away from the North and in Lannisport.

Tonight she figured she would celebrate her first Friday night in town but hitting the nearest dive bar. Turns out she had picked the right bar. 

She watched him as she sipped her first drink, wondering what could have put a grimace so ingrained on his face. 

It wasn’t until he turned to look back at an arguing pair at the pool table that she saw the extensive scarring across the left side of his face and jaw. From the look she would guess it was from burns, perhaps a bit of shrapnel and from that she reasoned that he was likely former military. 

That would also help to explain the beard and shoulders that looked like they could bench press a bus.

Still, she sipped her drink, there was something about him. Something inherently masculine and absolutely, one hundred percent ‘zero fucks’. 

When he hadn’t made a move to come speak to her, after she caught him staring at her several times, she took matters into her own hands. 

Of course he would try to bark and snarl, trying to scare her away, wounded animals always did lash out when they were afraid. She was used to that by now, and he didn’t scare her. No, the truth in his deep grey eyes was that he wasn’t going to do a damn thing about wanting her. 

That’s fine, she reasoned. She could handle it herself. 

They talked for hours, sitting together at the end of the bar as the world continued on around them, they found common ground in their dark sense of humour and cynical approach to the world. By the time the last call was yelled across the bar, she was beginning to realize that she would have to make _all_ the calls here. 

“Sandor” she set her empty glass on the bar. “Are you going to ask me back to your place?”

He swallowed his last bit of beer before facing her, “Why would a woman as beautiful as you want to fuck a man as ugly as me?” he asked. 

“Because” she leaned forward, placing her hand on his inner thigh. “A man as cynical as you fucks with singular purpose.” 

“And what purpose is that?” he countered. 

“To possess.”

“Is that what you want then, Sansa? To be possessed?”

“No” she smirked. “I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow, Sandor.”

“That” he stood, unfolding from the bar stool to his great height. “I can do.”

“Fuck” she gasped as he pinned her to the wall, kissing her deeply, sloppily as he tried to unlock the door to his townhouse. 

They had barely made it across town in his truck and to his driveway before they were on each other. He had carried her up the walkway, her laugh echoing in the darkness of the night as her long legs kicked in the air. 

Forcing his lips from hers, he growled in frustration as he unlocked the front door. He shoved it open, uncaring that it bounced off the wall behind it as he carried her inside. His townhouse was sparsely decorated on account that he didn’t give a shit, but at least it was clean. 

It wasn’t like he was a man accustomed to female company. It had been well over a year since the last time he had been with a woman, most of them running for the hills at the scarring on his face and the ice in his words. 

Not this woman, however. This woman called bullshit and didn’t let him get away with a damned thing. 

He tossed his keys aside, taking the curves of her ass in hand once more as he made for the stairs. Her mouth was on him, ear, neck and then her hands pulled his t-shirt to the side to bite his shoulder as he reached the upper landing. 

“Buggering hells” he growled, entering his bedroom and tossing her to the bed. He was a big man, which meant that he had a big bed, and tonight he was grateful that they would have the space to fuck each other without qualm. 

“Stop” she called out as he bent to crawl onto the bed with her. She placed a foot over his stomach, her heeled boots making her legs look sinfully long. “Strip.”

“Strip?” he chuckled. 

“Shirt first” she instructed and he couldn’t help but smirk as he pulled the ancient black shirt from his body and tossed it aside. 

“Lovely” she licked her lips as her eyes raked over him. Years in the military and his current job had served him well, ensuring that the 6’7” frame genetics had given him was burdened with muscle. 

He reached out quickly, grabbing her foot and tugging the boot away, letting it all to the floor. She raised an auburn brow before placing her other foot in his hands, that boot earning the same treatment. 

“Ah ah ah” she smiled as he moved. “Now the rest of it.”

“You’re a bossy little thing” he chuckled. 

“Baby, you have no idea” she teased as he tugged her socks away. Her barefoot then moved to his belt buckle, “Off.”

“Tit for tat, woman” he said as he moved back, kicking off his boots. 

“Oh, you want to see tits, I see” she pushed to her feet, standing on his king sized bed. He was unbuttoning his pants when she pulled her white shirt over her head, leaving her in a soft pink bra that was so sheer he could see her nipples through the material. 

“Fuck” he growled. 

She watched him shuck his jeans and then he stood before her in boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his arousal. He watched her, the blue of her eyes dark as she reached behind her back and unclasped her back, the sheer material falling loose and then he was looking at a pair of perfect breasts. 

She tossed the bra toward him and he caught it easily, “Fast hands.”

“Pants” he said simply. “Off.”

“You’re a big bossy thing, aren’t you” she teased, unbuttoning her pants, but turning her back to him as she shimmied out of them, revealing pink panties that matched her bra. 

“Fuck” he repeated as she kicked her pants away, turning to face him. 

“Why are you still over there?” she asked and he was on her in an instant, pulling her to the mattress with a squeal of laughter, kissing her once more. The feel of her soft body beneath his was more intoxicating than the drinks they’d shared at the bar, shooting straight through him and making him harder than he’d been in years. 

Her long legs wrapped around his waist as she clawed his back, and shoved her tongue into his mouth. She raised her hips, rubbing against him as she mewled against his lips. She was a damned wildcat, thought he should have known. Damned gingers were always a bit touched. He should know, he worked with one who was insane.

When she gently bit his lower lip, he growled, grabbing her hands to pin them above her head. His hands were big enough to hold her with one hand, the other delving into her panties and straight to her soaked cunt. 

“Fuck” she hissed as his fingers found her, circling her clit in slow motions. 

“You’re fucking soaked” he said, his voice deep and low as he slipped a finger inside of her. She cried out, arching against him and he chuckled. “Soaked.”

“Sandor” she pleaded. 

“Beg,” he bent down to pull a breast into his mouth, suckling her nipple until she was panting his name. 

“Fuck you” she hissed as he gently bit her nipple.

“Beg,” he repeated, playing her body like a fine instrument, one hand at her cunt and his mouth at her breasts. 

“No” she gasped and he felt a tremor course through her. “No...Sandor, please.” There it is, he smiled against her flesh. “Please, oh Gods, please…” she panted over and over. “Yes, shit---fuck” she screamed as she came, her body shaking violently as it took her. 

Never in his life had he seen anything more beautiful, or sexier, than Sansa in this moment. Porcelain skin flushed with desire, eyes glazed over as her folds wept around his hand. Perfection. 

“Good girl” he released her breast from his mouth with an audible ‘pop’ and bent to kiss her once more. 

He was so caught up in her kiss and the beauty of her orgasm, that he didn’t see it coming, and in a flash he was on his back. Sansa smirked down at him, her hand burrowing under the waistband of his boxer briefs to grab his cock. 

“Fuck” he hissed as she stroked him. 

“Fuck is right” she smiled. “Very impressive.”

He reached for her but she moved away, pulling his boxers away and leaning down to lick him from base to tip. 

“Shit” he exclaimed, his head rising to watch her as she guided him into the warmth of her mouth. His hands worked quickly, gathering the mass of her red hair to hold it back, ensuring he could watch as she sucked his cock. 

Her full, pink lips were pulled wide around his shaft, her hand and mouth working in tandem to tease him and he could have watched her forever. 

Forever, however, was too long for him to hold off on coming. 

“Enough” he growled and when she pulled back to look at him he grabbed her and rolled her beneath him once more. He all but tore her panties off as he settled between her thighs. 

“Pill, clean” she said suddenly and his mind barely caught up. Glancing down, he realized he had been about to fuck her without a thought spared for birth control. She was a very dangerous woman. 

“Clean” he replied and when she gave a nod he aligned himself with her entrance and shoved himself home. 

Sansa screamed out, her back arching as Sandor’s huge cock filled every last bit of her. _Fucking shit_, she thought as he pushed deep, stretching her in a way that she hadn’t been before. 

“Gods, you’re tight” he hissed, taking her hands in his once more to pin them over her head. She was at his mercy like this, and while she might not prefer being out of control, there was something about this man that had her panting within seconds. 

She watched him as he fucked her, taking her roughly but without violence. The flex of the muscles in his chest and stomach, both covered with a liberal coating of hair as dark as the hair on his head. The way his face contorted in pleasure made his scars all but invisible and she loved the scrape of his beard against her flesh as he kissed her. 

Abruptly he released her hands and leaned back, holding her thighs wide with his hands as he fucked her harder, deeper. 

“Shit shit shit” she panted, watching the strength of him move in fluid, smooth motions. His broad chest and the abundance of hair was surprisingly hot, undeniably masculine like his beard and wide shoulders. 

He had her practically folded in half, her thighs near her chest as he growled, “Fuck, so fucking tight. Take your legs, hold them” 

“Sandor” she gasped, reaching out to obey his instructions. As she held her legs, he reached to where they were joined, finding her clit with a deft thumb and using it to send her right over the edge. 

Her screams filled the bedroom as she came around him, soaking both of them and the bed with her fluids as she clenched around his big cock. 

She watched him wipe the sweat from his brow and then continue to fuck her, “Gods, woman” he chuckled. “You’ve squirt all over the place.”

“Fuck” she could barely form the words as he moved. Everything was overly sensitive and she felt each movement a thousand fold. “Please, please come, Sandor, oh fuck…”

“Tapping out?” he said darkly, hips still moving. “After two?”

“Oh fuck” she cried out. 

“I think you’ve got at least two more in you” he reasoned, listening to the wet squelch of her body around his. With her second orgasm she had soaked them both and he was hotter than fuck. She was soaked and screaming beneath him, what had he been thinking not initiating conversation with her at the bar? 

“Sandor” she begged as he thrust into her over and over, holding nothing back as she took every inch of him. 

His own gaze alternated from the pleasure on her face to watching her pussy lips grip at him with each movement, the pink flesh stretched around him, well-groomed fiery curls sitting just above them. 

Grabbing her legs he brought them together and against his shoulder, the angle changing and her body reacting almost immediately. 

“Shit, you’re gonna make me come again” she panted. 

“That’s the idea” he bent her legs towards her body and used the angle to fuck her hard enough to shake the bed. 

“Fuck” her hands grabbed his thighs, digging into the muscle there as she gasped. 

“Fucking come, girl” he barked out, feeling her begin to shake around him. She didn’t reply, only cried out as she clenched around him, coming for a third time. He pulled back, her cum spilling free as he took his cock in hand and used the head of it to rub her clit hard and fast. 

“FUCK!” she cried, soaking him again as he pushed her right back into another orgasm. Lining his cock back up he pushed back inside of her still-shaking cunt and resumed his punishing pace. 

He was damned close now, watching her contort in pleasure was too much to handle and he was going to come soon. 

“Sandor” she swallowed, gasping for air. “Please, I need you to come.”

“I will, I’m close” he told her and she nodded. “But you’ve still got one more in you, I think.”

“Sandor---”

His hands moved to her upper thighs, lifting them against him and giving him the extra leverage he needed to increase his pace. Her arms shot over her head, grabbing on to the wooden headboard and stretching her out in the best of ways across the mattress. 

From here he could watch the way her breasts bounced with each movement, the way her red hair had spread across the pillows like a halo. She was beautiful, too beautiful for him, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He would keep her in this bed as long as possible, of that he was certain. 

“Sansa” he growled. “Rub your clit, I want you to come one more time.” She obeyed, if slowly, a limp hand coming to where they were joined, strumming across her clit. “That’s it, are you going to be a good girl and come for me?”

“Mmm, yes” she mewled, still holding to the bed with one hand. 

He watched as she worked herself, her slender fingers soon setting her inner muscles shaking, “Fuck” he hissed, feeling his own release racing to the surface. “I’m gonna fucking come” he warned. 

“Yeah” she mewled, looking up to meet his gaze. “I need you to come, baby, need you to fucking come in my pussy” she taunted. 

“Fuck” he glared at her and she laughed. Fucking laughed!

“Come on baby, gimme that fucking cock” she taunted, her fingers moving faster against her clit. He was all but pounding into her, sweat pouring down his back. She gasped, shook and then bowed as she came a fourth time, her body milking his and this time he followed. Slamming deep and coming harder than he had in his life, spilling into her in heated jets that had them both groaning. 

“Fuck” he collapsed beside her, watching as she reached between her legs, touching herself softly before raising her fingers. They were coated in his cum now, as he assumed her pussy was, but she raised her fingers to her lips anyway, tasting their mixed fluids. “Where the fuck did you come from?” he found himself asking. 

“The North” she smiled innocently, licking her fingers clean. 

“Right” he reached out to grab her ass cheek, pulling her close. “North or not, you’re staying in this bed all weekend.”

“Yes, sir” she purred, not looking the least put out by the idea.

Monday dawned too early, causing Sansa to groan as she shut off her 5:30 am alarm. She stretched her aching muscles, smiling at the memory of a weekend well spent under Sandor’s impressive physique. 

They’d left the bar together Friday night and spent the entire weekend in his house in absolute bliss. Gods that man was _impressive_. 

Sure, she admitted, the scarring was bad, but they didn’t detract from his rugged good looks that had immediately caught her eye. She’d taken a chance on the glaring man and holy fuck had it paid off. 

She couldn’t remember the last time a man had made her come in bed, but Sandor seemed determined to wring as much pleasure from her body as he could. Hence, why his bedding had been thrashed and he would have to thoroughly clean his couch and kitchen. 

They’d exchanged phone numbers before she, rather reluctantly, left last night. They had parted with a lingering kiss and a promise to talk soon. He gave a small smile at that promise, and she felt hopeful for the first time in a long time. 

Quickly showering and readying for her first day at her new job, she hummed softly as she put her hair in its usual strict bun, using hairspray to smooth everything out. 

She had known at a very early age that she wanted to work in law enforcement, and while her family didn't approve, they understood her desire to serve her community. They had helped her as she went through the Police Academy in Deepwood Motte and watched her graduate at the top of her class after six months of absolute hell. 

She had worked patrol in Wintertown for a few years, and while she loved the department, it was small and slow-paced. She wanted more opportunities to promote, more special details and assignments, and more money. 

When the opening at Lannisport Police Department came up, she jumped at the chance, applying that same day. Two weeks later, she had a job offer that she couldn’t refuse. She accepted right away and packed up her small apartment, moving south, ready to start a new adventure. 

Checking to make sure she had everything, and ignoring the ache in her muscles, she grabbed her bag and uniform and headed to the station. 

“Clegane” he heard the Chief of Police bark at him from his office as soon as he hit the squad room. 

“What?” Sandor spat, tossing his clipboard onto the table before popping his head into the Chief's office. 

“There’s a new hire on your shift today---”

“Buggering hells” Sandor sighed. 

“Two months on your shift, minimum” the Chief Mormont instructed. “They won’t need much training, they come highly recommended.”

“Fucking bloody rookies” he cursed, striding back to the briefing table.

He’d worked at Lannisport Police Department for nearly a decade now, since he had left the Army at 29. He loved his job, was damn good at it too, promoting quickly to Corporal, then to Sergeant and now he was up for Lieutenant. 

Eventually, he would set his sights on the Chief’s chair, but for now he was enjoying being watch commander on the weekday day shift. 

While his career has always been fulfilling, his personal life was always, well..vacant. He avoided relationships, his face making that easy enough, settling instead for quick fucks before leaving the woman behind. He didn’t allow himself to hope for a wife, for a family, not after an IED in Iraq had torn through their Humvee and half his face. 

His mouth nearly twitched in a smile, thinking once again of the beautiful redhead, Sansa, that he had spent his weekend with. Gods, she had blown everything all to hell in a few short hours and by last night he would have done anything she asked. 

She was a goddess, and neither of them had been able to keep their hands to themselves once the damn had broken. She was wild, uninhibited and surprisingly funny. In their downtime between savage fucking and slow, languid fucking, they had watched a little TV and she had some hilarious observations about those on television. 

He could easily get attached to her, he decided, and was damned anxious to see her again. 

Conversation echoed in the hall and he schooled his features as Corporal Lannister escorted who Sandor assumed was the lateral inside. 

“And this is the briefing room” Lannisters voice explained. “Complete with Sergeant Clegane” he said as they entered the room. 

“Welcome to---” he froze as he looked over and realized who had just walked into the squad room. The goddess, the redheaded sex pot that had spent the last two days naked and screaming as they fucked each other into oblivion. Now, however, she was clad in a crisp blue uniform, not a hair of pin out of place, staring back at him with the same expression of surprise. “Fuck” he muttered. 

“Welcome to fuck? Hardly our motto, unless we’ve changed it” Officer Bronn Blackwater quipped as he entered the squad room, Brienne Tarth behind him shaking her head. 

Sansa recovered first, extending her hand, “Sansa Stark, pleasure to meet you, sir.”

His cock twitched at the ‘sir’ and he slowly took her hand. Even in uniform she was stunning, “Welcome to LPD” he said gruffly. 

“Don’t let the Sarge here scare you” Bronn chuckled. “He’s a big softy.”

Sansa smirked, never looking away from him, “I am sure he won’t be too hard on me. Will you, sir?” 

He barely swallowed his growl, resisting the urge to take her right here on the squad table with the team looking on. This temptress knew exactly what to say to fire his blood like no other. 

This, he watched as she sauntered to a briefing chair and slid into it, smiling back at him, was going to be very interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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